Drinking Commandos
by lil'hawkeye3
Summary: A Canadian mutant, a faux-American time traveler, and an actual American soldier walk into a bar, and thus begins the start of a friendship that will span the decades. (Or, Jack Harkness is harder to get rid of than James Howlett first thought.) MCU/X-Men/Doctor Who crossover.
1. A Canadian and a faux-American

_Just a note: James "Jimmy" Howlett is Wolverine's name before his memory loss._

A Canadian and an American walk into a bar…

While it may sound like a bad joke, in reality… well, one of the individuals would snort and agree with the sentiment.

The pub was full to the brim with soldiers enjoying the brief reprieve from training and getting in a last few drinks before they deployed to the European battlefront. The loud laughter was a shock in contrast to the usual somber attitude that filled the streets of a London currently suffering from the blitzkrieg inflicted by the Luftwaffe. Songs had been played on the piano for several hours now, the quality varying with the player; the current one was making the lone man near the back of the bar want to stab something.

In a room that had tables overcrowded with groups of comrades celebrating in the numbness of alcohol, the sight of the loner at his own table in the dim corner would be considered strange. Considering this had been his routine for the past few weeks, it was something that was ignored by the majority of the current attendants, but not by the American with a charming grin that leaned against the edge of the bar.

"Fill me up again, and add a strong whiskey too?" He nodded his thanks as the bartender slid a new mug across the surface towards him before topping off the other glass. A drink in each hand, the man made his way across the room (sending a flirtatious wink towards one of the girls who had just walked in) before setting them down in front of the lone man in the back. The gent glared at him as he sat down.

"What'dya want, bub?" The man growled, speaking around the cigar in his mouth.

"Looked like you needed another." He leaned back in his chair and gave a two fingered salute.

The loner huffed in annoyance. "American. Figures." He took the cigar out of his mouth, watching the smoke curl towards the ceiling as he exhaled.

"You know, that thing'll kill you in the long run."

To his surprise, the man made a sound that sounded similar to a laugh. "If only." His gaze dropped to the drink that had been placed in front of him. "Rum?"

"Whiskey."

The man didn't say anything, but the fact that he lifted it up and took a sip was a victory itself. "Thanks, soldier."

"Captain."

"Hmm?"

He grinned, eyes twinkling. "The name's Captain Jack Harkness; at your service."

Snort. "I bet you are." Jack wasn't sure to which part he was referring to, but shrugged because either way, he was correct. The two sat in silence for several minutes, content in listening to the jovial atmosphere surrounding their little bubble. "James Howlett," he muttered somewhat reluctantly.

Jack's grin grew wider, if that was even possible. "Pleased to meet you, Jimmy." He chuckled as James glared daggers at him again. "James, of course."

James gave another drag on his cigar. "And don't you forget it, Jacqueline."

And thus began the new routine for the American and the not-so-loner. Each night, Jack would make his rounds with the boys from his base before ordering another two whiskeys and delivering them to the back table. James would usually be seated already, sometimes with a drink but always with a cigar in hand. Words weren't always exchanged, and they didn't need to be. For once, Jack was alright with a lack of constant conversation. Two old souls sharing a space for a while was enough for the both of them.

There were reprieves to the silence, and over time these breaks became longer and occurred more often. It started around mid-December, when James entered the bar and was slightly surprised to see Christmas decorations had appeared during the daytime hours despite the rations and restrictions in place. The piano had been draped in red ribbon, and a small tree was placed next to their table in the corner. The display almost made him smile. Almost. He did have a reputation to uphold (even if Jack had damaged the "loner" bit already).

"Getting into the spirit, James?" He sighed mentally as Jack's voice came from behind him. He had been hoping to ignore the American for a bit longer, but luck was not on his side.

"Forgot the mistletoe," he commented, overlooking the question and training his eyes on the ceiling beam above the bar.

"I could-"

"No." James said firmly. Jack did laugh heartily and wink at him, but that was that.

Until the next week, when he strolled into the bar, this time wearing a dark blue trench coat that fluttered with every step he took. James couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes at the dramatics. "You should really try that in a dress."

Jack waved a hand nonchalantly as he sat next to him so they both had their backs to the wall and could see the entire room. "Like I haven't done that before." He turned his excited gaze fully on James as he reached into his coat and pulled out a small box wrapped in newspaper. "I think you'll like this." James raised an eyebrow skeptically, but accepted the package and unwrapped it fairly quickly. Lifting the lid unveiled a pair of Cubans- the genuine, pure tobacco cigars. "I figure, if they're gonna kill you anyways, might as well go out on the good stuff."

"Thanks, Jack," he said gruffly, looking him in the eyes as he used his real name in a sign of true appreciation. Not having something in return for the cheerful brunet made him feel slightly guilty. "Didn't expect anything, especially so early…"

"Don't worry 'bout it," Jack brushed off. "Had to give it to you now because my unit's leaving in the morning."

"Shipping out to France?"

"Not yet. We've been selected to help train American troops now that they've been dragged into this."

Ah. It wasn't all that shocking, James considered. After Pearl Harbor about a week ago, the United States needed to make a battle-ready military on three fronts: European, Asian, and African. What better way to train them faster and better than with the help of a few veterans from their allies. "Have fun listening to them complainin' the first few weeks."

Jack chuckled and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Send a letter my way, eh James? Gonna need a reminder there's some sane folks out there fightin' the good fight." Translation: Let me know if you deploy.

"Will do, Cap." James lit his cigar as he watched Jack exit the pub, trench coat billowing once again. The piano turned somber as he disappeared beyond the door frame.


	2. Agent, Meet Captain

It took a special kind of woman to reject the advances of Captain Jack Harkness.

In all honesty, Jack was thrilled. He tried to hide his excitement - "tried" did not mean he tried very hard- as she interrogated him. (Perhaps "interviewed" would be a better term; he hadn't been captured or anything. Yet.)

The brunette beauty looked at him through narrowed eyes, her hands splayed across his open file. He was amusedly surprised it was only half an inch thick. "So… Captain Jack Harkness."

"Agent Margaret Carter," he replied with a smile. Well, it wasn't like he hadn't done his homework either.

Agent Carter's eyebrow raised in a challenge. "It's Agent Carter to you."

"Of course it is."

She met his gaze evenly. "You're from Torchwood."

He didn't flinch. "His Majesty and the Prime Minister both agreed that someone with more… experience with unnatural endeavors should be on hand for some of the Allies' more sensitive projects."

"Is that an insult?" She asked sharply, cutting off the tail end of his statement.

"Absolutely not. Agent Carter, as your title so kindly points out, you are here as a member of the SSR. I am here as a consultant lent by the British government from Torchwood. Seeing as both countries are equally invested." Jack was a bit worried that she didn't believe him, until he saw the victorious smirk she wore. "Well played."

She hummed in agreement. "Now that we're done comparing our sizes-" Jack barked out a laugh "-perhaps you can explain some of the abnormalities in your documents." Agent Carter crossed her arms. "How was your visit to Ellis Island?"

He laughed again; so this was her way of letting him know she was informed about his "unique" situation- or at least one of them. Jack liked this woman. "Which one?"

She smiled. "Just so we understand each other." The brunette gestured for him to follow her. "Welcome to the SSR, Captain."

The underground bunker put Torchwood Three's to shame. Jack wasn't shocked by the amount of people hustling about the space, but it was clear that this "SSR" was more than just a semi-independent unit. As a trio of high-ranking officers (he could tell by the bars on their suits) approached them, he raised his hand to give a casual yet correct salute. Agent Carter's was far more professional but much stiffer than his. The two generals nodded and excused themselves; the colonel remained and surveyed him with a resting glare.

"Colonel Phillips," Agent Carter greeted him.

"Agent Carter," he replied. "Captain Harkness."

Jack clasped his hands behind his back. "It's an honor."

"Yeah, I'm sure it is," the colonel said dryly. "Captain, I have two tasks for you, until the situation changes."

"Yes sir."

Phillips huffed in irritation; with what, Jack wasn't sure. "Officially, I'd like you in the lab to assist two of our top scientists, Dr. Erskine and Mr. Howard Stark. You come highly recommended for your knowledge in advanced areas of the subject." It was a side effect of being a man from the future with so much free-time on his hands. "Unofficially, you are to be their bodyguard until further notice."

Jack's eyebrows rose in true surprise this time. "I had a feeling I wasn't here for my good looks."

The colonel snorted. "Nobody here has the time for your 'looks,' Captain. Now get to it. Agent Carter will show you the way."

"Leaving the lady to escort me?"

"No," Phillips called over his shoulder as he walked off. "I'm leaving the agent to make sure you don't touch anything you're not supposed to."

"How kind of you," Jack teased Agent Carter as she rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Follow me." She made sure he didn't fall behind as they passed bustling workers, most carrying files or maps from the look of it. He marveled silently at her no-nonsense demeanor. "I would typically warn you about Stark's behavior, but I think he may have finally met his match."

He gave a mock gasp, though switching back to a blinding grin as he passed a secretary and caused her to turn pink and giggle. "Agent Carter, I've no clue what would've led you to such an idea." He followed her through a set of heavy metal doors, taking great care to ensure his trench coat didn't get caught. They were met by a joyful voice calling out "Peggy!" as several lab assistants stared at the newcomers.

"Hello, Howard," she replied in exasperation. Even without introduction, Jack was able to identify the man in the tie and suspenders next to a wicked-looking device as Howard Stark; the mustache was his trademark. "This is Captain Jack Harkness."

The men shook hands. "Call me Jack," he said cheerfully. "Nice suspenders."

"Oh, don't start," Carter groaned.

"I only said hello!"

Howard smiled victoriously. "It's Howard, and it's always a pleasure to meet others with the same respect for practical fashion."

Both men turned to look at the agent as she unsuccessfully hid a laugh with a polite cough. "If you two are acquainted, I believe I'll be making my exit…"

"Don't be a stranger, Peggy!" Howard called after her as she left.


	3. Project Rebirth

Jack wasn't terribly fond of the SSR's latest scientific experiment- especially considering that it was a chemical test on a human. He had seen enough failed attempts on his travels that it didn't take nearly as much willpower to keep a poker face as it had years before. That said, he did feel bad when he finally laid eyes on the willing subject.

Steven Rogers was a skinny little thing. Dreadfully so, and Jack was honestly surprised that the boy had survived basic training with how sickly he looked. (And he was sickly- Jack had read his files: asthma, chronic illness, scarlet and rheumatic fever, palpitations, the genetic possibility for cancer… the list went on). He knew Colonel Phillips hadn't been on board with Dr. Erskine's choice of patient, but apparently that had changed, since Phillips had stopped outright fighting Rogers' appointment and now just muttered about it every now and then. Agent Carter (or "Peggy," as they were finally on a first name basis) had a soft spot for Rogers as well, and thus Jack was further interested in their guinea pig for this super soldier project.

"Mr. Rogers!" Jack welcomed with a grin as Peggy led the young man into the testing chambers. His words prompted Howard to look up from his pre-test checks. "So glad you could join us today."

"Steve, this is Captain Harkness and Howard Stark," Peggy introduced them both, glaring at them in a way that clearly warned to '_play nice.' _

The two men gave her innocent looks back; they both knew she'd be right in assuming the worst of them any other day, but neither were willing to distract from today's proceedings.

"Mr. Rogers," Jack said, inclining his head slightly. The boy might've been crazy to agree to be such a guinea pig - if he even _knew_ that's what he had agreed to- but he at least deserved his respect for going this far.

He tuned out the rest of the conversation, instead focusing on the various attendees that filed in through the door. Some had stopped in clumps of twos and threes to chat - probably making some political maneuvers. There were a few that seemed too at ease in his opinion, but as they were all directed into an observation room, he couldn't do much about them.

Jack hovered behind Howard as Steve was strapped into the contraption and everything was moved into place. Erskine was stood in the middle of the machines, speaking to all the 'big wigs' in the observation room above. He hadn't wanted to join him in the spotlight. There was a time and a place for it, and being on the edges of historic events meant he retained a level of (somewhat) anonymity in case anything went south.

He watched with a growing sense of unease as Steve was injected with the serum and sealed into the vita-ray chamber. The scene made him feel uncomfortable- too many reminders of his own experiences of being sealed up for experiments. Howard handed him a pair of polarized glasses that Jack slipped on before Erskine directed Howard to begin the vita-ray process.

It was certainly brighter than he expected, especially as the light only came through a small viewing window. He hoped Steve wouldn't be blinded.

Jack honestly was surprised that Steve lasted as long as he had before he started screaming. It took him a moment to understand why all the others would be so panicked: they weren't used to these sorts of events yet. In fact, this one would be the start of many.

"No! I can do this!"

They continued to increase the levels of the machines until the circuits burst in fireworks of sparks and the machine dies down. Even though Jack knew what was coming, his eyes still went wide as the chamber opened to reveal the transformed Steve Rogers.

The skinny boy had been replaced by a tall, muscled figure that panted heavily as if he'd just completed a marathon. His pectorals glistened with sweat from the strain of such strenuous physical change.

The gathered scientists had stared in awe at this new Steve Rogers for several heartbeats before they all began to rush forwards at once, surveying his vitals and chattering in amazement at the success of their scientific endeavor.

Jack watched in amusement as Peggy Carter was the first one out of the observation room as she walked briskly to stand in front of Steve. Even the normally professional agent couldn't help but reach out and touch Steve's now chiseled chest, as if she needed to ensure what she saw was no illusion.

He let his gaze drift around the rest of the room as more of the observers filtered in and the room became much busier. He kept his posture as relaxed as possible, not wanting to draw attention to himself, but kept one hand hidden in his trench coat pocket, clenched onto his gun. Just in case.

'Just in case' came sooner rather than later. Jack threw himself in front of Howard Stark, turning his back to shield them both from shrapnel as the observation deck exploded in a loud blast.

"Are you alright?" He asked hurriedly, checking the man over to see if he had been hurt. He was met with a dazed nod as the scientist stared at the destruction around them.

Maybe it was Jack's luck when it came to these important things, but of course such a profound success would be further marred by gunshots. It was times like these where he understood why the Doctor was staunchly "no guns!"

With all his years of experience, he reacted instantly to the gunshots and jerked his way in front of Howard. The immediate and familiar sensation of pain blooming throughout his chest let him know he'd done his job and the darkness of death swallowed up his vision as he fell to the floor.

* * *

It'd been a while since he'd last died, so this time he came back rather quickly. He was no longer in the center of the room; someone had dragged him behind one of the large consoles. As he blinked rapidly and started to get up, he found that Howard had in fact moved him.

"Huh. Agent Carter's files on you really were true," Howard said in an dumbfounded tone as he stared at Jack with wide eyes. "It's like something out of a story book."

He got that a lot. "What happened?"

Howard grimaced. That was never a good sign. "There was an enemy agent in the viewing room. He was here to steal the vials of Erskine's formula. You blocked his first two shots at me but… Jack, Erskine's dead."

Sometimes, Jack wished he didn't know what happened when he was gone.

He purposefully wiped all of his expressions off his face as he twisted around and saw Steve Rogers kneeled over Erskine's still and bloodied form on the ground.

"Where'd the bastard go?"

"Rogers and Carter chased after him. The agent swallowed a cyanide pill hidden in a false tooth." Howard's gaze was focused curiously on Jack's chest now. "Everyone saw you get shot, but I dragged you over here in all the confusion. We'll just say you were wearing a prototype bulletproof vest I've been inventing, but the force of the bullets knocked your breath out and made you pass out."

Jack sighed. "I suppose that's better than the alternative."

The two moved so their backs rested against the cool metal of the large control panels as they sat together in silence amid the chaos of the room.

"Thank you, by the way," Howard said softly, his eyes staring blankly at the floor. "You saved my life."

Jack smiled softly at the inventor, who was clearly beginning to have shock set in and cloud his mind. "Don't mention it, Howard."


	4. A Good Man

There was no need for him to stay anymore.

At least, that's what the official missive said. Jack happened to respectfully disagree: he thought that leaving a new super soldier alone with no one who was used to a presence like his was just asking for trouble.

But there was real trouble forming in the UK that required his expertise. He was needed to look at some alien tech that they had discovered been used by the Nazis- whether it was actual alien tech would have yet to be discovered. He hoped it was alien and not just leftover by some lazy time-jumper. Alien was much more interesting.

(Not as interesting as Steven Rogers had become, but he'd just have to hope they crossed paths later).

He'd wanted to say goodbye to Rogers before he left, and Peggy had directed him towards the small medical section of the SSR base. Between his rank and his flirtation skills, it wasn't hard to find where the super soldier had been stashed away while they ran more tests. After finding the room, Jack waited for a nurse to exit with a tray full vials of blood before he slipped in before the door could close.

"Might want to be careful who you give those out to," he said with a shadowed grin, jerking his thumb over his shoulder to gesture behind him.

Steve Rogers looked up with wide eyes and straightened out of his slumped, seated form on the patient table. "What are you doing in here?"

Jack pulled the swivel stool out from under the doctor's desk and moved to sit in front of Rogers. "Making sure they left you in one piece," he said jovially, despite partly meaning his words. He wasn't sure if he entirely trusted the SSR. He didn't fully trust Torchwood, and he hadn't seen enough to believe the two units were all that different.

Rogers pursed his lips and looked towards the door. "I just want to help however I can," he murmured. "All of Erskine's formula was lost, so now I'm the only way to potentially make any more."

Jack surveyed him closely. He hadn't seen Steve Rogers for long before he had transformed, but it was still easy to see the kind, determined boy that Erskine had spoke of before. "I wouldn't be too sure of that," he warned lightly. "Part of Erskine's formula was choosing you, Steve Rogers. Especially now that we've seen what you can do in pursuit of justice… well, I'm not sure I'd trust whoever the Army chose to bestow the same power upon."

Steve stared at him cautiously. "Dr. Erskine told me… he told me not be 'a perfect soldier, but a good man.' To stay who I was."

Huh. It seemed the good doctor had the same worries that Jack did about what would happen if the wrong type of soldier was given such strength. "You know what they say: great minds think alike!"

Steve overall seemed to relax at his joke and now raised an eyebrow in challenge. "Doesn't the full saying end with 'fools rarely differ?'"

Oh, wonderful! There was the man beneath the new façade.

"Are those fighting words I hear?" Jack teased briefly, although he sobered before continuing. "But really, Rogers. Don't forget what he said, and don't lose yourself to the feeling of power." His thoughts unwittingly flashed back to the Doctor and the Master, who both were clearly old friends that had somewhere diverged onto very different paths. "It never ends well."

"Why tell me all this now?" Steve asked.

Jack sighed as he stood up. "Oh, maybe it's because I like you. Or because everyone needs a reminder of who they are every once in a while. Or maybe because I know how it feels to be… an unknown anomaly." He offered his right hand as he moved to stand in front of Steve. "But mostly, it's because I'm shipping out today."

Steve firmly grasped his hand and shook it. "Any chance I can tag along?" He tried to keep his voice light, but Jack could hear the painful honesty in his plea.

"If I was heading out to the front I'd consider sneaking you along, but I'm afraid my next mission is of the 'classified intelligence' type," Jack admitted. "I don't think you'll be stuck here for too long, though."

Rather, Jack knew that Steve Rogers would make it to the European Theater soon enough. He may have had a habit of messing with timelines on more than one occasion, but this wouldn't be one of those instances. It wasn't worth the risk to potentially disrupt the history of Captain America.

Steve sighed and nodded as Jack made for the door. "Good luck out there, Captain Harkness."

Jack gave him his signature grin and wink as he opened the door. "I'll make sure to give the Nazis your regards, Steve Rogers."


End file.
